Magenta Monster

It was there beyond the Sandy Hills; everybody knew it, though no one could now recall where the stories had come from. All the elders were certain that the edge, the barrier to their world was beyond the Sandy Hills.

Most were scared of what lay there in the beyond but not Inanu. She had always felt the bite and the pinch of their little world, nestled as it was, and things were changing, had been for a while. The sandy hills were encroaching and the gardens where struggling. People had started to get hungry. Everyone was worried.

Some said that the world was ending, others that sacrifices where needed; no one had suggested they leave. Lanu looked out of the Ponic’s Tower and looked at their world. It was dying, but she was sure that did not mean they had to die with it. Looking around the tower she decided the world had been dying for a long time. Crystals glinted in the wall; her grandmother had told her that her grandmother had said that once upon a time it had lit up, that once it held the secrets of Heaven and the stars, of the end times, of the chariots that rode the prophets up and away to be with the Sun or God or Benevolence, depending on who you asked.

Now there was a darkness on the air and the priests said they could speak directly to the Gods, to those who dwelt beyond the stars. Inanu stared out at the flat area where they had once sent people to far away places the Priest said were the preserve of the dead. There had been an increase in sacrifices of animals, baying in fear as the floods had reduced and the river had clogged and stagnated.

Babylonia was dying.

Great gashes in the walls told her that many things had been ripped from the tower. There was also still soot, thick and black and oily; there had been a fire, the Tower had fallen and now it was nothing more that the centre of the Ponics. Great hanging gardens that stretched out away from the tower fed with water and nutrients from the river. Her father helped maintain the giant screws and solar pumps that shifted the water up the hill from the river.

She’d asked him how it worked, he’d said he didn’t know, he just mucked about with the thing and hoped one of the solutions the older teams had shown him worked. Even so, he was aware that not enough water was getting up there. ‘It also tastes salty’, He confided in her.

She’d frowned at that and that was really why she had taken the steps up the tower. She watched the water bubble and pulse its way out to trickle down to the plants. She’d bought a cup with her, and now she removed it and scooped a sample. Placing it to her lips she tasted it. Frowning, she wasn’t sure if it was salty but it didn’t taste right at all.

She set a pan up and began to boil the water. If there was salt in it she would extract it. She could have just left it to evaporate but she wanted answers quickly; the priests were running out of animals to appease the gods.

Glancing out of the window, she could not imagine them coming back. If she was a god who could travel to the stairs and Heaven beyond, she wouldn’t bother with a city that had forgotten how to build to the sky, a city that built with mud and worshipped the river even though they would all deny that that was what they were doing.

Worse, her hands were webbed; she was the first in five generations born like it, the Priests had decided she was an omen, they thought the gods would reincarnate. Now they looked at her with side glances, and she’d heard her father’s fears for her safety. She knew that sometimes the priests decided that animal blood was not enough.

There was a hiss as she poured more of the water into her pan; she would boil it dry and see. Whilst she waited she looked at the pictures on the walls, carved over the years.

People with great heads, and webbed hands, hands like hers. She wondered where they were, she wondered if they were the only people left, she wondered why they looked so similar and yet so different from these creatures the priests called gods.

She thought of how they had named her city the gateway. That suggested comings and goings; not everyone had gone up into the sky, surely some had come down? Surely people had ridden into their city from the roads. There were records of trade!

Would the people beyond the hills be large-headed or not? Would they have webbed hands? The day was evaporating faster than the water.

She glanced at the pan, felt an uneasiness as she looked at the white crusting. It was definitely salt. Staring out at the Ponics, she noticed similar residues down the pipes and things feeding the plants.

Inanu stumbled over her own feet as she ran from the Tower, she needed to tell her father, she needed to tell the elders. She collided with a Priest on the stairs. He grinned at her unpleasantly.

She stuttered an apology but his large fingers were still holder her upper arm where he had caught her, ‘Communing with the gods my Lady Inanna?’, he asked. She froze with fear and stared at him, her title was not extant, her father worked hard to hide his nobel birth. It was unsettling to hear it uttered by the Priest. But more so the fact he had dropped the juvenile u off of her name worried her more.

She gave herself a mental shake and looked at him, ‘I have no title sacred one, I was simple investigating why the plants are not flourishing and I feel I have an answer for the King.’

The Priest smiled at her again, her heart started pumping harder. ‘Oh, the King is looking forward to a solution to the situation and you will provid,e my Lady. Your title is eternal and the lands are missing your celestial presence my dear.’

‘What are you talking about?’ she asked, already trying to squirm her way out of his grip, this was not sounding good. Another priest appeared, he was holding silk rope and ball gag. She twisted more frantically. ‘No, please, I must talk to the King! There is salt in the irrigation water, there are ways we can get around it! Please!’

The priest struck her and she collapsed, ‘My Lady seeks to help but once she is free, once her earthly body’s blood has been spilt, then she will achieve all that seems unsurmountable to her now.’

She was unconscious as they trussed her up. If she died the key to Babylon’s survival would be lost. She dreamed of the Lands beyond the Sandy Hills.

Posted: Tuesday, October 7th, 2014 @ 12:45 am
Categories: Flash Fiction, The Punks World.
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